“Fucking hell,” he growls, cupping the back of my neck as he takes my lips again.
My back arches as I try to get closer, my calves wrapped around his hips bring him toward me. I feel his erection between my legs and I groan, putting my palm over the hard length. His belt-buckle clacks as he hurriedly undoes his jeans, pulling himself out, then guiding my hands to it. I grasp the thick, raging cock in my hands, stroking up and down. His teeth sink into my lower lip and I gasp, then hum with the jolt of pleasure I feel shoot through my core. Rough hands move to my shoulders and grasp the flimsy straps of my tank top, shredding the material away from me. Our lips separate and I watch as he jerks the front of my top down, setting my breasts free. Eagerly, he grabs them, plumping the globes so that my nipples and piercings are closer to his lips as he attaches to one. His mouth is warm and wet while his teeth pull gently on my jewelry.
“Ohh,” I swallow hard, watching him take me over, giving me sensations I’ve only dreamt about.
My hips are bucking, my legs falling away from him. Parts of me are throbbing, the piercing between my legs feels like it has its own heartbeat as I arch and want more, more, more. My hands pull harder and tighter against his cock, this feels so raw, we’re both unleashing on one another what we both want. This is so opposite of my experiences with Blake, I knew he wasn’t into sex like me so I basically only worried about getting myself off. This, this is connection, in tune, in sync, and the feeling itself is overwhelming.
“Are you wet?” he asks against my breasts.
“So wet for you.”
I sound like some sex crazed maniac, like the chicks in porn’s when they beg for cock. But, whatever. He yanks down my/his pajama pants so hard, that when my legs are free, my heels hit the cabinets below the counter with a thud. His hands force my legs wider, then move to my inner thighs as his thumbs spread the lips of my pussy to verify that I’m wet.
“God, your cunt is perfect,” he comments, putting one thumb in his mouth to suck. He leans in to kiss me, fingers rubbing my entrance like he can’t help himself. “You taste so good, I’ll eat you later…but I’m so fucking keyed up from the club, I can’t right now.”
I purr against his lips, as his fingers drive me more insane and I nod. Reaching back, he produces his wallet and opens it to retrieve a condom. My chest’s heaving, nipples wet and tingly from his mouth, my legs parted and so fucking ready for him. My eyes stay glued to his hands as he tears open the condom, pinching the tip as he rolls it down, and down, and down his massive dick. He steps closer, using his hand to rub the condom covered head over my wetness. I can feel the piercing through the thin latex, and my body jerks with excitement. He places himself right at my hole, then slides his hands under my knees, along my sides, and up my back to grasp the back of my shoulders, causing my legs to fall over his biceps. He braces me and holds me tight as he thrusts inside. A sharp cry pierces through the quiet, then gets caught in my throat. The pain different than before with Blake, it burns and feels unlike anything else, and my eyes squeeze shut while my hands claw the shit out of his back. His hot breath pounds against my neck as he curls over me, fucking me deep. The pain changes as it becomes filled with sensation that has me wanting more. He’s holding me so tightly I can barely breathe, but it just accompanies the feeling of this man pleasuring me the way I’ve longed for. It’s owning and dominant, I know he’s reading my queues, if I wasn’t moaning like a whore, he would surely stop the relentless smack of his hips. The jewelry at the head of him is stroking something repeatedly inside me, his pubic hair’s tickling my clit piercing, his chest rubbing against mine, I can’t take it anymore. I feel my insides contract, my legs flexing in his arms. I’m not coming but teetering, and it feels so fucking amazing.
“Keep scratching my back,” he tells me through gritted teeth.
And I drag my nails down from his shoulders to mid back, his hips slam harder with a jerk as he loses rhythm. Our bodies pull away in a sweat soaked slip, and again he spits down between us, landing directly on my clit. There’s something so hot about when he does that, dirty, but hot. His thumb rubs just below my piercing and white noise fills my ears, my eyes rolling back and my hand drops to his chest. Again, out of my head, my fingers pinch one of his nipples and he groans so loud and hard, it cuts through the static in my ears. His hands grasp my hips, fingertips digging in as he holds his breath, muscles flexing as he watches himself move in and out of me. I can’t feel the cum, but know he’s orgasming, his cock flexing inside me as he empties into the condom.
That was…well, the most amazing experience of my life. Slowly, Wyatt pulls out of me. I watch as he removes the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the garbage beside the counter, pulling his pants back up to his hips. I attempt to move, to get off the counter but can’t. There’s an energy moving through my body, almost numb but so alive. Like when your limbs fall asleep and as the blood begins to flow through them again, the pins and needles feeling assaults your nerves. He studies me, then reaches down grabbing a backpack off the floor. It must be what I heard fall when he first came in, then he bends down and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He carries me up the steps to my bedroom, dropping the back pack on the end of the bed as he sits me down beside it. I wince as I make contact with the mattress because between my legs is sore. I look down to see my top is in tatters, so I pull it off and toss it in the small garbage I have beside my dresser.
“Do you mind if I keep this here?” he asks, lifting the backpack.
“Sure…what is it?” I ask as he opens the closet door and tosses it onto the floor.
“Things we might want to use,” he says and comes to sit down beside me on the bed.
I’m naked and he looks me over before reaching back to grab one of my pillows further up the bed and pushing it into my chest. I take it and wrap my arms around it, feeling a bit embarrassed that he doesn’t want to see me like this.
“I can’t have a conversation with you sitting there naked and ready for me,” he comments, making me feel a little better. “I meant what I said when I don’t think we should date, I know you say you can handle that, but I want to be sure…like right now, I plan on leaving. We had sex, and I’m going to go home, are you okay with that?”
His eyes search mine, and I know what he’s saying is serious.
“Yes,” I laugh a little. “I understand what you said when you told me only fucking,” I comment.
“But saying it and doing are two different things…you said I need to show you with my actions, to be honest and not just be words with you…so I’m leaving, and I want you to know this is what it’s going to be.”
“And I’m fine with that,” I tell him, because I am.
“Okay,” he nods a little hesitantly.
He stands and leans down to kiss the top of my head. I watch from my high perch in the loft as he goes downstairs and retrieves his shirt, pulling it on and walking to the door, not looking back as he closes it behind him. When I hear the front door click shut, I slide the pillow from my chest to cover my face and squeal with glee. I had just been thoroughly fucked by Wyatt Frederickson. HOLY SHIT. I can’t stop smiling, and I can’t stop focusing on the parts of my body that are pulsating and tingling. I lay back on the bed and run my fingers over my lips, down to my nipples which are puffy and red. Trailing my fingers down between my legs, I feel like my entrance is open and still traumatized by his massive cock inside me. I wish he’d come inside me, I want to feel it and taste it. Just then my phone pings downstairs and I sit up, not bothering to dress as I go down to get it off the counter.
Wyatt: Daisy.
Me: Yeah?
Wyatt: What are you doing tomorrow?
I can’t hide my smile or my excitement, my hands shaking with it.
Me: Just picking the girls up from practice in the afternoon.
Wyatt: I have a late start at work tomorrow, can I come over in the morning?
Fuck yes he can.
Me:
Okay.
4
DAISY
I draw late into the night and when I curled up in bed the clock read four a.m. I startle when something touches my leg, but I’m barely aware it’s actually something and not a dream. Then I hear rustling of fabric, the sheet pulls off my back and the bed dips. It doesn’t scare me, but I have no conscious idea what’s happening. Then my body tightens when warm lips press onto one of the dimples above my ass, followed by a, “Sshhhh, it’s me.”
It can’t be Wyatt, it’s too early, I only slept like thirty minutes.
“I don’t want my parents to see you,” I mumble into the pillow.
His lips kiss up the bones of my spine. “No one’s home,” he whispers against my skin.
“Oh,” I sigh and roll onto my back opening my eyes to see it’s much later than I thought.
He’s midway up my body, and his lips resume kissing upwards just below my breasts. I raise my arms above my head and stretch, arching my back as my head tilts up and I point my toes. Sleepily I blink open my eyes to see Wyatt just looking down at me, a small smile on his lips.
“Hmmm?” I ask, like maybe he asked me something and is waiting for a response.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head and then lowers his lips, keeping his eyes on mine as he kisses between my breasts.
“Do you always sleep naked?” he asks.
And it’s then I realize I am indeed naked, I must’ve taken off my shirt before bed in a sleep deprived delirium. I sigh and bring my hands to his messy hair, cupping his face as he moves to my neck and I run my hands down his shoulders to his back. I can feel raised flesh and look down to see red scratches all over him.
“Sorry,” I tell him and he groans.
“For what?”
“Your back,” I stammer out as he licks up to my ear.
“Don’t be, it felt good.”
He sucks on my earlobe and I part my legs and adjust my body so he’s lying in between them. I’m still a little tender but I can feel I’m already wet, he’s naked and his thick dick rests on my mound. He aligns his mouth with mine and I turn my face away, covering my mouth with my hand.
“What?” he asks looking at me with concern.
“I need to brush my teeth.”
He growls low and pulls my hand down, then takes my chin in his fingers and brings our lips together.
“Don’t be silly,” he tells me.
I roll my eyes and cringe inwardly. He kisses me again, this time coaxing my mouth open as his tongue laps lazily with mine. I hear the crinkle of something as his hips pull away and he rises up onto his knees, taking his base into one hand while the other slides on a condom. He returns his body onto mine, a hand reaching down between us and he checks my readiness. Okay, I’m a lot tender down there, but feel his fingers slip through my wetness.
“You good for this?” he asks gruffly.
I nod and close my eyes as he cups the side of my face while his other hand moves up to mine, linking our fingers as he bows his back and finds my entrance. Slowly, he pushes in and I inhale sharply, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and closing my eyes. He begins kissing me again, entering me just an inch at a time until he’s fully encased. The sensation burns and stings and actually does hurt, but I grit my teeth and know I have to get past this part for it to feel good. He pushes in and out a few times, but the burn has me stiffening and wincing no matter how hard I try to cover it up. Then the fullness is gone as he lifts from me, and my eyes fly open expecting to see him angry or upset. Instead he leans down and puts his face between my legs, pushing my thighs back as he begins to kiss me there.
“What happened to the hair you had here when we got together the first time?” he asks, running his fingers from my belly button down my mound.
“I had to shave for the piercing,” I stammer, his action making my insides all quivery.
He dips his head, nuzzling the tip if his nose just above my piercing, and I have to literally hold onto the sheet so I don’t buck off the bed. The action sends a jolt of pain and elation up my spine, as he inhales deeply.
“I like it like this, I like the way your skin smells here.”
I have no response to that, but I note that I’ll be shaving bare from now on. He runs two fingers up and down my lips, feeling his exhales against the dampness there. His lips are light and fluttery, delicate and tender. My eyes burn with the knowledge that he knows I was in pain, acknowledging that it was too much for me and is trying to make me stop hurting. I swallow thickly and a rush of air comes out of my lungs as he tenderly eats me out. My hands move to his hair again, I feel so stupid and young. This is supposed to be fucking only, he’s not supposed to have to make love to my pussy with his glorious mouth. He’s supposed to be acting out his darkest fantasies, this for sure can’t be one of them.
“Daisy, shit you’re so swollen, sorry,” he says as he inspects me.
Further making me feel like a pathetic partner. But then, his lips attach to my piercing before fluttering his tongue over it repeatedly. I groan and arch my neck so I can watch him, he’s still looking up at me. My chest begins to heave as my mouth falls open in a silent ‘o,’ my brow furrowing as I beg him with my eyes to keep going. I grip his hair with my fingers, my legs pulling up toward my chest and my head falls back.
“Shit, shit, oh Wyatt,” I moan.
His hands tighten on my legs and the bed shifts causing my hands to fall to the bed, my head lifts back up and I watch as he rips the condom off, his tongue still lapping as he begins to pull on his cock. His arm flexes and he groans against my wet flesh and I come, my legs closing and he pulls his head back. He groans and leans over me, one hand planting on the mattress beside my head and I turn to sink my teeth into his wrist. His body jerks and he groans loudly, nostrils flaring as white spurts of cum start shooting out onto my stomach. I stretch my legs down to allow him more room, he’s thrusting into his hand and holding his breath before moaning with every exhale. He’s a magnificent creature, seeing him at his most vulnerable, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. His head drops to my shoulder and we both pant, allowing time for the static in my ears to clear. Then he rises moments later, looking down at me. I want to cuddle with him, no, no I don’t. I push the need aside and remember what this is, fucking. Wyatt gets off the bed and bends down retrieving a towel I left on the floor yesterday, and he wipes his cum off my trembling belly. I sit up as he grabs his clothes discarded on the floor.
“Mind if I shower?” he asks.
“Go ahead,” I tell him.
He looks down at me sitting there naked and when our eyes meet, he quickly turns away and heads down the steps in all his nakedness. I don’t know if it’s because what we just did was more than sex, but I do have a twinge of sadness inside me. Am I cut out for this no strings bullshit? I tell myself it’s just because of the way I perceived his reasoning for going down on me, I also tell myself I’d clammed up like a dead fish and who would want to fuck that? He had no other choice if he wanted to come, yeah, yeah that’s it. I get up from the bed and toss on an oversized volleyball shirt and some panties, inside of me is burning and I feel uncomfortable down there, great. Heading downstairs, I see a box sitting on the table, along with some mail. I grab the letters and flip through them, seeing one is from the college I’m attending in the fall. Opening it up I unfold it to read,
Dear Miss Westmore,
We received your correspondence in regards to deferment for a semester. After review, we can hold your academic scholarship for this period, but not your athletic scholarship. This will also have to be discussed and reviewed with Coach Paul in regards to a slot remaining on the team for you when your deferment is over. We encourage you to contact him on your own and the university will back whatever agreement you come to. We look forward to seeing you this school year, and please don’t hesitate to contact us with further questions.
-Dean of Admissions, Pamela Emerson.
“What’s that about?”
“Jesus Christ!” I jump and close my eyes.
Wyatt comes around in front of me, shirtless and still dripping wet. He takes the letter from my hands and reads it, I attempt to grab it from him but he stretches his arm up and out of reach. Let it be noted, that if my vagina didn’t feel like it was on fire, I could totally jump up and get that letter.
“Is this for real?” he asks, bringing his arm down.
“Yes,” I reply defensively, yanking my letter away.
“Why?” he replies just as defensively while furrowing his brows.
“Because I don’t want to go to school right now.”
Admitting the truth, saying the words, feels good…damn good.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t think college is right for me, right now,” I say looking down at the letter.
“Because?” He opens his hand and waves it in a gesture for me to just tell him the shit.
“I don’t know what I want to major in, I feel good not playing volleyball, I just want to make my own decisions and I feel like college is something I won’t like. And then if I go and know I don’t like it, I’ll have to fight with my parents on why I want to come home, they’ll drag it out until school is over and then I’ve just wasted a year of my life.”
Use Somebody: Plantain Series Book Four Page 6